Freefall
by Haikoui
Summary: An unconscious Loki tempts Jane to try to keep watch over him as he recovers from his fall to Earth. Lokane oneshot.


**Title: **Freefall

**Author: **Haikoui

**Summary: **An unconscious Loki tempts Jane to keep watch over him as he recovers from his fall to Earth. Lokane oneshot.

**Disclaimer: **Don't own any of these characters. They're all owned by Marvel. Let's not get into the conversation of what I would do if I owned them.

* * *

Jane had been searching. _Yes,_ she had been. For Thor. For the man who had – literally – dropped into her life and had changed everything she had known. She wasn't blinded by her love for him (or infatuation, obsession, whatever showed up with the novelty of meeting a _Norse god,_ for crying out loud), but she _was_ intent on finding him.

_You shouldn't have to find him,_ her mind always told her. _He promised he would come back for you. And how long has it been?_

The question was always ignored. Mostly because Jane took it upon herself to save him the trouble. Besides, if she found a way to Asgard using an Einstein-Rosen Bridge, then she'd have Thor _and_ the respect of the scientific community, which was a win-win in every possible scenario.

Jane kept her eyes open every day for a fateful sign of Thor's return. She could envision it already; she could taste the welcome on her tongue; she could hear his comforting, warm voice in her ears as he picked her up and swung her around in delight.

So, when she decided on a whim to visit the site of his arrival so long ago (was it really only a few weeks past?), she wasn't prepared to see a figure passed out several dozens of yards away from the insignia burned into the ground.

"Shit, shit, shit," she breathed, jumping out of her truck and running up to the figure, who was sprawled on the desert floor, unmoving. "Oh, gosh. Alright, Jane. You got this."

He wasn't Thor. That much was certain. Whatever hope she had in her chest was very quickly extinguished.

But she couldn't just _leave_ him there. Whoever he was, he needed attention, and fast. Was he even – ?

There was a steady rise and fall to his chest, as though the man were in a deep sleep. She exhaled in relief before standing for a moment, contemplating what actions to take.

_He could be dangerous, _said the rational side of her mind. _Not everyone is as charming as Thor._

_He could be hurt,_ said another side of her mind. The female, emotional part, no doubt. _You have to help him._

_Jane, don't be stupid. Logically, you'd take him to SHIELD._

_Jane, don't be stupid. The guy is _dying._ He needs help and you can give it to him. Since when did SHIELD care about the welfare of others?_

Jane moved forward and hoisted the unconscious man onto her back, nearly collapsing in the process. He was heavy. Of course, the enormous amount of armor most likely contributed about half the weight, but he looked to be – judging by his tall frame – nearly a foot and a half taller than her. _Like Thor._

She halted for a moment.

_No, not like Thor. Don't think about Thor. Not right now._

It took a quarter of an hour to get him in her truck. In the end, she'd had to unfasten the cape and shoulder armor from his body to relieve both him and her from the weight of it. As soon as she got him into the back of her truck, she allowed herself a minute or two to look at him.

He was pale, she decided. Very pale. As though he'd had all his blood drained from his body.

When she took a closer look at him, she realized that _yes, yes, oh gosh, blood, blood, he's injured – what is that thing? _

It would have been a beautiful shard of minerals and ores to look at had it not been plunged deep within his ribcage. His cape had covered it before she had taken it off. Dried blood was caked around it and Jane swallowed to keep herself from throwing up.

"Hospital," she whispered to herself, before biting her lip and shaking her head to herself. _Not at all. Don't want this guy to wreak havoc on the place like Thor did. Stop it. Don't think about Thor._

So she forced herself to grip the end of the shard and to close her eyes. _Don't look._

One. Two. Three.

With all the strength she could muster, she pulled the shard out from the side of the man's ribs and flung it behind her. At once, there was a soft cry of pain and she opened her eyes to see the man heaving, his eyes open and wide, his fingers curling and uncurling on themselves as he struggled to focus on her face.

"Breathe," she said, taking hold of his face between her palms and forcing him to look at her. "Breathe. You're alright, you hear me?"

His eyes, wide and green and ever so slightly, unnaturally blue, searched hers frantically, as though unsure where to look. As though unable to see her completely. As though they'd seen a world of knowledge and pain in a matter of seconds.

He rasped for air, struggling against her grip before going limp once more, and Jane cursed silently to herself as she saw fresh blood spill from where she had pulled the shard out from his body. "It's okay, it's okay," she told herself. "Just take him back to the lab and watch over him, Jane. He'll be alright." And thankfully, his chest was moving deeply once more, though he appeared even whiter than before.

It wasn't until a few minutes later when she got herself to sit back in the driver's seat to drive back to the lab, shaking, unable to relieve herself of the image of the man's blood.

* * *

She laid a few old linens she didn't much care for down on the spare couch in the lab and laid the man down on them carefully, before sighing in relief. Even without all the armor, he was _heavy. _Jane's petite frame – just over five feet – was nowhere near enough to comfortably haul the figure into her lab on her own, but somehow, she made do.

His blood had dried, but he was impossibly white from how much of it he had lost. Yet – she wasn't sure if she should be relieved or anxious – he was still able to make small movements, out of discomfort or pain. Every so often, a small, nearly inaudible whine escaped from his lips, before he quieted and laid still.

Jane had no idea what to do. For the next couple hours, she couldn't get her mind together to work on her experiments – her thoughts flitted dangerously to the comatose man on her sofa. _Should I feed him? Should I try to treat his wounds? Should I clean him up so he doesn't get an infection? Oh, gosh. What do I do when he wakes?_

She looked toward the sofa. He was still unmoving, his chest moving up and down at a slow, steady rate.

Something was different.

She peered closer. Was it possible? It was as though within the past few hours, nearly all color had returned to his face. He looked less like a corpse on her bloodied linens and more like a simple, long-legged and lean man taking a nap in the middle of her lab. She felt her face heat up at the implications her mind had conjured but quickly shoved the thought away.

"Wound, wound," she muttered to herself, moving over to him. Carefully taking hold of his shirt – tunic? – she pulled it up and nearly gasped.

The injury was nearly completely healed on the surface, although she could tell there was still a great deal of damage underneath the skin. She almost fainted on the spot. If the armor and the conspicuous location he was found in wasn't enough, this certainly was – he was most definitely _not_ from Earth.

She pulled his tunic back down and looked back up to the man's face, only to meet two incredibly green eyes staring right back at her.

Shrieking, Jane jumped nearly a foot in the air, grabbing the nearest thing she could find and flung it at him. The man found himself struggling with a dirtied pillow before he tossed it off himself and set a dangerous glare on her. "Insufferable – " he began, before groaning loudly and gripping his side in what looked like heavy pain.

"Oh, no," said Jane quickly, crossing over to him quickly once more. "Let me help you – "

He batted her hand away. "Leave me be, woman. I do not require your assistance."

_Definitely not from Earth. _"The _least_ you could say is thank you," she said crossly.

Still massaging his side, the man eyed her with obvious disdain. "Why? Most of my healing has been of my own accord."

Suddenly furious, Jane folded her arms across her chest. "If not for me, you would have died in that godforsaken desert from a pitiful stab wound. I think I deserve the benefit of the doubt here."

He growled at her and bowed his head to his lap without saying another word. A moment passed and still the man said nothing. As soon as she was about to pester him again, he inquired, "What realm is this?"

"Earth," she replied.

He looked at her blankly.

She decided to risk it. "Midgard."

He frowned. "This realm? This is Midgard?"

"Yes."

He bared his teeth at her. "A mortal. A mortal took me in. How embarrassing." He removed his hand from his side and slowly eased himself up from the sofa. "Where on Midgard, mortal?"

"My name is not _mortal,_ or _woman, _or anything else. It's Doctor Jane Foster. Get it right," she retorted. "And you're in New Mexico. In the United States of America."

Something resembling recognition flashed in his eyes, but otherwise, the man seemed confused, for lack of a better term. "I do not remember an _America_ existing upon Midgard." His eyes narrowed. "Where am I, _really_?"

"I told you. Puente Antiguo, New Mexico, in the United States of America, on Earth. Midgard."

He shook his head at her. "The last time I had visited Midgard, you mortals were fighting each other with sticks and stones and inhabiting desolate living spaces. This cannot possibly be the same realm."

"Well, it is," she shot at him.

He waited for a moment, and then a small grin grew on his pale features. "If this is truly Midgard, then I have struck gold landing in your hands, Jane Foster."

Jane froze. "What?"

"You are Thor's woman."

"What?" she repeated.

"The mortal who took the _battle-hungry crowned prince of Asgard_ and changed him into a _pathetic, pacific fool,_" he spat at her. "Surely you have not forgotten the Golden Man of Asgard and the man whose shadow I slaved away in, _Thor Odinson,_ so easily?"

_The man whose shadow I slaved away in._

Loki. She'd taken in Loki. She'd treated Loki. She'd hosted Loki. In her own lab. In the middle of nowhere.

Just her luck.

"So you're his brother," she said.

"I am _no one's_ brother," he snarled at her, before ducking his head in pain. His hand shot to his side once more and he inhaled a shaky breath. "I am Loki. _Loki._"

Just then, he groaned and wavered on his feet. Jane grasped his arm and sat him back down on the sofa. "You're not going anywhere until you heal. Completely."

"I am healed," he said. "And you are of no use to me."

"I am your best friend while you're here," she snapped back. "The second you try to leave, you will be found. The government will find you and will impose a punishment on you. Did you forget what you did to the town not too far away from here while you were trying to kill your own brother?"

He glared up at her. "I am a God. I will not be stopped by mere mortals here upon Midgard."

"That's what Thor said, too, before he got arrested. Don't bother trying to act like you're above all of us."

"_You dare – "_

"Yes," she said shortly, her tone indicating finality. "I dare."

He watched her for a long moment with angry eyes, before biting his lip and looking down at his boots. "You are an odd one, Jane Foster."

Jane said nothing. She couldn't tell what he was playing at.

"I nearly kill your beloved and you still attempt to allow me to heal within the confines of your own home." He paused, exhaling out of his nose roughly and gripping his side. "Is this another mortal tradition?"

She nearly laughed. "No. It's called being a good person."

There was a moment of silence before he relaxed and let go of his side. "I must leave, Jane Foster," he said, and at once, he appeared tired. "It pains me to say that your hospitality is admirable. Even the All Father would not have been so kind toward one who had once called him his own father."

Loki stopped, as though waiting for her to reply. She gathered her nerve to ask a question she'd been afraid to say. "You won't kill me?"

He looked at her with a blank face. "I had promised Thor I would pay you a visit myself, and it appears that I have, though not on the conditions I had wanted." He looked around her lab, as though inwardly contemplating something. "And it is evident you are a valuable asset to Midgardian success."

She was certainly _not_ expecting that. Jane folded her hands together on her lap and leaned closer ever so slightly. "I don't know what you mean."

"I respect knowledge, Jane Foster," he said. "You seem to have plenty of it, compared to the rest of the mortals here. And Thor is my brother no longer. I will not concern myself with his playthings."

A spark of rage shot through her and she stood up in fury. "Excuse me? A _plaything?"_

She wanted to smack that innocent look off his face. His eyes were wide and doleful, as though he had just commented about the weather. "Why, yes," he said simply. "For his own pleasure. Surely you did not perceive yourself to be courted by him, in due time? You are _Midgardian._ Why should he bother himself with you for anything more than pleasure when he has the choice of every available and much more beautiful woman on Asgard?"

"You are _despicable," _she shrieked at him. "And I thought you could actually be someone worth something. How dare you?"

Loki said nothing else, only smiling at her and watching her with a calm visage.

"You are _lucky_ Thor cares about you. Otherwise I would hand you over to SHIELD in an instant!" She was furious. To think she'd been about to feel _pity_ for this horrible thing – he'd dropped from the sky just to spite her.

It was as though she'd lit a fuse in his very core. In an instant, he was in front of her with his hand squeezing her throat, his forehead pressed against hers as he backed her against a wall of her lab; his eyes searched hers hungrily, as though attempting to find a reason, _any reason, _to keep her alive.

"_You,_" he breathed against her lips, "are _lucky_ that I find you much more worthwhile than _Thor._ You are _lucky_ I dropped onto Midgard today. You are _lucky_ I have seen the horrors of the universe before I visited you. You are _lucky _I am in no mind to destroy you as I once was." He inhaled languidly, drinking in her presence, and she trembled behind his hand as his choking grip relaxed. "You are _lucky_ you will not die today. Not by me."

She swallowed, feeling her throat move against his palm, and he grinned lazily, pressing his body up against her so that she was unable to move between him and the wall behind her. "Do we understand each other, Jane Foster?"

She nodded, shutting her eyes as his forehead pressed further against hers. She could still feel his cold breath on her cheeks, her lips, her neck – he seemed to be everywhere.

"I do not wish to hurt such an intelligent one as yourself, mortal," he hissed mockingly into her ear.

"Don't call me that," she whispered back.

His chuckle thudded through her body. "And what shall I call you? _My savior?_"

She couldn't find the nerve to reply.

"Shall I call you _Lady Jane? _Or _Thor's woman?" _ He lowered his lips to her neck, his breath moving slowly over her skin. "Shall I call you _Midgardian?"_

"Please, no." She didn't know what she was saying no to. She knew for a fact that when she pulled him into her truck that morning that she didn't sign up for _this,_ whatever _this_ was.

There was an odd feeling against the crook of her neck, and it took her several seconds to realize that Loki was dragging his teeth along her skin. Goosebumps erupted over her arms and she shuddered, unconsciously pressing closer to him.

"Shall I call you _wanton mistress?" _he mouthed against her shoulder.

"No," she said, tipping her head back against the wall.

There was another smile against her skin, but the hand at her neck threatened to squeeze. "What shall I call you?"

"Jane," she said, nearly inaudible. "Jane."

And then he was gone. The warmth, the cold, _whatever it was, _vanished within seconds. She nearly collapsed as the weight in front of her disappeared, but somehow she managed to watch herself against a lab desk beside her. Eyes wide, she looked up to find him several feet away, a Cheshire grin on his lips.

"I thank you, Jane," said Loki, bowing, his eyes flashing as though he were playing an easy game, "for your kind, _kind _hospitality. And now, I must take my leave."

"That's it?" she demanded, her heavy breathing betraying her anger. "You're just – you can't just _leave!_ I didn't pull out a massive shard of whatever-it-was out of your side to have you disappear and almost kill yourself again!"

"I am well rested." He seemed to ignore the rest of her statement. "And I suppose I will allow you to keep that shard of the Rainbow Bridge for yourself."

_Rainbow Bridge? _"Wait – what – ?"

There was another hand at her shoulder, and from the corner of her eye, she saw another Loki carefully tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. The Loki several feet away from her flickered and vanished into thin air. "I shall visit again, Jane. Do not fret."

She inhaled shakily as he laid a soft, slightly open-mouthed kiss on the nape of her neck. "Please don't," she breathed.

His hand tipped her head back, and his other hand came up to have his finger trace her lips. "I suppose I shall call you _my Jane."_

She shivered.

"And," he continued, his voice lowering, "I suppose _I _am _lucky _to have fallen here." He placed another kiss just below her ear. "My fall has been productive, wouldn't you agree, my Jane?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because you have heart." His voice trembled through her body. The other reason – in order to spite Thor – was left unsaid. "I shall pay you another visit soon, my Jane."

And then he was gone. Truly gone. She turned, twisting around and around herself, to see if he had truly left, and he had. Nothing was left of him except the feeling of his teeth on her neck and his fingers drawing against her mouth. What had just happened within the span of fifteen minutes? He had been on her sofa, asleep – and then she had been at his whim against the wall nearly a quarter of an hour later.

The way his demeanor constantly changed was enough to cause her to almost go insane. _No wonder he's named the God of Mischief and Lies._

She waited for a moment, and then ducked her head, a bitter snicker leaving her mouth. _And Silvertongue. Of course._

Hours passed, and still, Jane couldn't find it within herself to continue the search for Thor.

There was no point, anyway. Loki had mentioned the Rainbow Bridge shard that she had pulled out of his side earlier. That meant that something had happened to the Bifrost.

By the time she disposed of the bloodied linens and went to her trailer to get some rest, she was just about ready to scream with frustration. She could still feel his purr against her neck as she laid in her narrow bed.

In her dreams, she saw a figure freefalling to the desert floor.

"My Jane," said a voice. "You have heart."

And she fell, too.

* * *

**I don't know how this fic took the turn it did, but I hope you all liked it. Review? :)**


End file.
